Magic of Being With Yourself: A Poem By Prateem

Please don’t value your time. You see time is utterly a bullshit thing to value.
Living by the time is an illusion.
It keeps you haunted, snatching away precious lives of yours.
It steals us from being present, being here, being now.

Instead, value your attention.
Value the here. Value the now.
It’s much sweeter, I tell you.

Words that make us from within, the languages you form, the body you acquire, the people you meet, the relationships you savour, oh, it’s all but a big heap of bag that wavers.

So, what’s the “me” that remains? Do you wonder at times? 
Everything else slides away, like slipping sands from your hands. 
But the “me”? The “me” never passes away at any point whatsoever. 
The “me” remains.

If you truly want to write, so write.
If you truly want to sing, so sing.
If you truly want to act, so act.

Let everything else follow you up from behind.
Let the fear and the scars scare the shit out of you.
Please do not fight them, only to make them even stronger than before. 

Let everything fall apart. (As it will anyway).
And let everything break apart by your side. 
Let everything loose away, only to gain some other day.
Let them Be as it is, as they are to be.

Because you see, the ease never remains. 
No, they never do. 
They come and go every time, gifting you with the dis-ease along the way.

But the light of the self will sail you through, like a pole star guiding you in every step. 
The here and now sees everything.
Here and Now brings you to the “real you”
So be with yourself.

Be Here. Be Now.